Journeying Toward Freedom, Returning to Our Purpose: Founder's Corner Blog

This June, my husband and I traveled to Lisbon, Portugal, to join a remarkable Juneteenth heritage celebration hosted by Halisa and Rick, creators of the Our Black Utopia podcast. What they curated from June 10–20, 2026, was more than a gathering – it was a living testament to the global heartbeat of Black people seeking peace, belonging, and wholeness. 

We were among 110 Black couples and singles from across the U.S. and Europe. Some had recently relocated abroad; others had been living in Portugal, Spain, the UK, and beyond for years. Their migration stories often began around 2017, shaped by a political climate that made many feel increasingly unsafe, unseen, or unwelcome. Their honesty was striking. Those who had already moved abroad spoke with clarity: they would not return. Others were preparing to leave soon. Still others – like my husband and me – felt the ache of wanting to go but being anchored by family responsibilities and commitments that keep us rooted here. 

Having visited 40 countries and most of the Caribbean islands, we have long felt a sense of ease outside the United States. Yet beneath that ease lies a truth many of us carry quietly: the resurgence of structural and systemic racism in the past decade has unsettled our spirits. Feelings of angst, hypervigilance, and disconnection have crept into spaces where joy once lived. And these feelings are not ours alone – they echo throughout our communities. And yet, beneath the celebration was an unspoken truth: the weekend would end, and so would the brief national spotlight on the holiday that marks freedom delayed but not denied. And while Juneteenth is now a federal holiday, the absence of acknowledgment from the nation’s highest office was felt deeply by many. Silence, too, sends a message. 

But returning home on June 19th allowed us to join Denver’s renowned Five Points Juneteenth Celebration. The streets were alive – vibrant, joyful, overflowing with Black families, elders, youth, artists, and entrepreneurs. For a moment, it felt like collective exhale. A reminder of our resilience. A reminder of our joy. A reminder of our power. Frederick Douglass’s timeless question echoed in my mind: “What, to the slave, is the Fourth of July?” Today, we might ask: What, to the descendants of the enslaved, is Juneteenth when its meaning is ignored by those in power? 

And yet, this question brings me back – firmly and purposefully – to the mission of Sister-to-Sister. 

The feelings expressed by those who left the U.S. – and those who wish they could – mirror the very conditions our programs address:

• Chronic stress and racialized trauma

• Mental health strain and emotional exhaustion

• Economic instability and systemic barriers

• Isolation, disconnection, and the longing for community

Our maternal health navigation, doula/participant pairing, financial literacy programs, youth leadership pathways, and community healing initiatives are not simply services – they are lifelines. They are the very tools that help Black women and girls reclaim their breath, their agency, and their joy in a society that too often denies them all three.

Community Is Our Global Heritage 

What I witnessed in Lisbon – a gathering of Black people from across continents, united by shared history and shared hope – is the same spirit we cultivate here at home. Whether in Portugal or Colorado, our people seek:

• Safety

• Belonging

• Healing

• Joy

• Possibility

Sister-to-Sister is a home for all of these.

We Stay Because This Is Our Country – And Our Work 

Many of us will not leave the United States. Not because we are unbothered, but because our ancestors built this land with their anguished blood, sweat, and tears. Because our roots run deep.

Because our communities need us. Because our daughters and granddaughters deserve a future shaped by our hands, not by systems that were never designed for their flourishing.

And so, we stay. We work. We build. We heal. We rise.

Sister-to-Sister is part of that rising. As we move through this season – of celebration, of reckoning, of reflection – may we continue to create spaces where Black women and girls can breathe freely. May we continue to build programs that restore dignity, expand opportunity, and nurture leadership. And may we continue to honor Juneteenth not only as a holiday, but as a call to action.

In solidarity, purpose, and love,